Page 78 of Love Me Knot, Part One (Knotty Omegas #1)

CONNOR

I’m at work, neck deep in payroll and wishing I could learn to fucking delegate when my phone buzzes on the desk. Again and again and again.

Son of a bitch.

Don’t even need to check to know it’s Moore. Since the build started, he’s been up my ass daily. Despite our conversation and the three emails I’ve sent to remind him, he refuses to call Sawyer. Instead, he wastes my fucking time at all hours of the day, as usual.

I haven’t gotten more than four hours of uninterrupted sleep since the project started and I’ve started hallucinating him chasing me around with my cell.

I pick up the phone, knowing I can’t put this off. “Connor Morgan.”

“Why did it take so long to answer?”

“Because I’m working, and you’re not supposed to be calling me at all. What do you need, AJ?”

“I don’t like your tone, and I don’t like your little errand boy. If I wanted to deal with a peon, I’d go somewhere else. I come to Morgans to speak to a Morgan. Am I clear?”

“Crystal,” I grit, wishing for the millionth time I could just punch the kid and get it over with. “What do you need?”

“I was thinking, what if we did NOS and, like, some flashing lights on the roof?”

Jesus wept. “Those lights are for emergency vehicles only. As for the NOS, are you planning to race the Cheveau?”

In Pacifica, speed boosts are illegal unless they’re used on the track. The old muscle car is a little heavier than most racers, but we could probably make it work.

Moore oozes impatience. “No, I just think it would be fun to have.”

Shocking. “Are you thinking short shots of nitrous oxide or long ones?”

“Definitely long.”

Of course. Shorts would work with the car as is, but anything more will require reinforcing the engine and potentially reconfiguring the fuel setup. “Well, that’s not something we can give you. Shorter bursts would be an option, but they’re only legal?—”

“I don’t give a shit about legal, Connor. I want NOS in the car, exactly how I asked for it.”

“That’s not possible,” I try again. “It’s illegal unless?—”

“Why are you bothering me with something that’s your problem?” he snaps and my patience snaps with it.

“If you want NOS, we’ll give you what’s legal and only that.” If the cops pull him over and he tattles that we did the nitrous system, Morgan Restorations is over. The fines they’d level on us would be catastrophic.

“I could take the car to someone else after,” Moore wheedles.

“Then you can put them out of business instead of me.”

“You’re such a pussy, Connor. Just get it done.”

I quote him for the new change—including a surcharge for how fucking stupid he’s being—and try not to throw my phone when he hangs up on me.

Seems like every day, I wonder his bullshit is worth it and every day, I’m leaning closer to no .

Tuesdays and Thursdays, I tell Daph I’m working late when I’m really meeting my therapist.

Bridget Ellis is maybe five feet tall, red-haired and absolutely littered with bonding marks.

I learned in our first meeting that she’s part of a pack of seven, with two omegas and a fuck ton of kids.

Her alpha, Felix, stands in the corner as her legally required security.

He’s also a therapist. The two say they see people together, but really, it’s so that confidentiality laws can remain in place while the omega is safely guarded by her pack.

As someone who had an omega and is courting another, I can appreciate the creative solution. I still keep to one side of the room, just to ensure Felix doesn’t think I’m getting too close and rip my fucking throat out.

Bridget sits in a cozy egg chair, blanket draped on her lap and a notebook open while I fidget behind the couch. Sometimes I sit, but I’m too restless for anything but pacing.

As usual, she notices everything, brown eyes tracking as I start my circuit around my half of the room. “How was your day, Connor?”

“Frustrating.”

“Want to tell me what happened?”

Yes, I fucking do. It takes fifteen minutes to spew my feelings about Moore into the ether before I finally feel calm enough to stop. When I do, my chest heaves, irritation thrumming through my body.

Against the wall, Felix tenses, ready to catch me if I take one step toward his omega, but Bridget is completely unfazed.

“We talked about boundaries in some of our early sessions. Seems like this may be the perfect time to work on setting them. What boundaries would you like this client to follow?”

“Well, not calling me at all sounds great.”

It’s sarcasm, but she nods and writes it down. “Okay, so you want him to go to the correct staff member with his concerns. What else?”

“I’d like him to respect office hours.”

“Good. Keep going.”

“Maybe he could utilize emails. That way, he can send however many messages he wants without disturbing Sawyer’s off time.” I don’t bother mentioning that I wish he would listen . Pretty sure that’s too much to ask.

Bridget jots everything down then settles her eyes on me. “Those are great boundaries, Connor. What is it that’s stopping you from setting them?”

My mind flashes back to that day in Winter’s office. Scrimping and saving for years to pay off Shelby’s debt without my packmates knowing. The pack savings that’s finally rebounded after my divorce. “Bailing on a client with this much spending potential doesn’t feel right at the moment.”

Omegas take money. That’s the truth of it, and Moore has plenty.

Yes, he’s fucking annoying, but the padding of his projects alone is enough to get us through a tough season if we need it.

Despite our courtship being new, it feels like we’re speeding toward the future.

If so, that nest egg will be even more important than ever.

Bonding ceremonies cost money. Kids cost money. Not to mention our less-than-ideal housing. It all takes cash that Moore can provide.

“What does your pack think?” Bridget asks carefully, eyes on me, notebook ignored.

I think of Dez weeks ago, and Nate this afternoon, both telling me Moore isn’t worth the stress. But they don’t understand how fast things can go sideways. How easy it is to fuck your future without trying. “We don’t agree on how to handle this situation.”

She lifts one pointed brow, and I can practically hear her tell me to listen to my brothers more. Apparently, I take too much on my shoulders without asking for opinions. Who knew?

Bridget’s voice is that same gentle kindness it’s been since the start.

Like she’s going to beat the right way to exist into my brain, even if she has to do it with a plastic hammer.

“I understand your instincts are screaming to protect and provide for your omega and pack, but that doesn’t always mean you need to give in. ”

That’s exactly what it means.

Daphne isn’t Shelby, but I’m still me. It’s hard for me to tell her no if she wants something and that’s only going to get worse the longer we’re together. She already means so much to me. How can I disappoint her?

Trick question, I can’t. If she wants a new house, a new car, or a bigger storefront, I’m going to get it for her, and in order to do that, I need money. Ergo, I need AJ fucking Moore.

Bridget must see my refusal, because she waves a hand. “We can come back to that in a minute. Right now, I want you to focus on something else. You’re in the early stages of courtship, so instincts are high to show your omega that you can give her the life she wants, right?”

“Yes.” It’s a constant loop in my brain. Woo, bite, bond, breed, happily ever after.

“With that in mind, do you always tell Daphne yes?”

“Of course. She’s my omega.”

Bridget tilts her head. “Really? Or do you say yes to anything she wants materially?” I don’t answer, so she asks another question. “Has Daphne ever asked for something you couldn’t give her?”

Yeah, my time.

The others have been busy wooing our omega through the streets, but with Moore breathing down my neck and my own demons threatening to reemerge, I’ve been pretty unavailable emotionally and physically.

I’ve made an effort to be home for dinner, but I barely stick around to clean up after, rushing for my home office the second we’re done and not leaving until the witching hour.

Dez’s words ring in my head again. Be here with us.

Fuck. “I hate when you’re right.”

Bridget smiles. “It’s not about being right, Connor. It’s about reminding you of the reasons you’re here. You want to unlearn the mistakes from your previous marriage so they don’t affect your relationship with Daphne. You want to be a better alpha. Those are your words, correct?”

When I nod, she continues. “Sometimes, a good alpha is one who says no. Who puts the good of the pack before the good of their omega. They may be the center of the family, but they aren’t the entirety of it.

If Daphne is as lovely as you say, she won’t push for things that would make your life uncomfortable or take more than you have. Money or time.”

My shoulders sag, the overwhelming feeling of not being enough weighing me down. “I just want to give her everything.”

“Start with you, Connor. That’s what she needs most.” Bridget stares at me, then laughs. “But I think you know that already.”

I know she’s right. That my brothers are too, but I don’t know how to do it. How can I ask Daphne to be ours without guaranteeing that we can give her whatever her heart desires? “What happens if things go back to the way they were with Shelby? Or if Moore refuses to listen?”

“If your client refuses to listen to the safeguards you’ve put in place to protect your staff’s mental health and your own by association, then it seems like he’s not a client you’d want to have.

As for Daphne, you can’t control her actions.

Only your own. So, what are you going to do to ensure things don’t get that bad again? ”

We spend twenty minutes mapping out a plan and a list of my potential triggers. By the time we’re done, there’s only a few minutes left of the session and I’m ready to get the hell out of here.